


Cat Burglar

by dutchmoxie



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 12:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3381491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dutchmoxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bellamy owns a kleptomaniac cat and Clarke's panties get stolen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cat Burglar

The panties were hot pink, mostly made out of lace and had a tiny little crown dangling from the bow in the front. They were also his cat’s new plaything.

“Bastet,” he chided. “Let go. I promise to feed you, just let go.”

The Egyptian Mau was usually so good at following orders - but clearly she’d been bored without having her owner closeby to play games with her. So she toyed with the little bow just a little while longer before elegantly striding over to her food bowl.

“I know you don’t like strangers,” he huffed as he got out the food. “But I don’t like you stealing their things. Because I hate apologizing - and paying for new panties for the Princess.”

Who these panties belonged to? He had no idea - their building just kept getting new tenants so he could hardly even keep up with everyone on his floor. He knew he could cross off Miller and Monty next door, and Jaha and his son at the end of the hall, but he did not know very many others on this floor. He doubted Kane’s doctor friend would wear these - Abigail Griffin was just not a pink kind of woman.

Bastet did like roaming around at Kane’s place - the man had such a weak spot for felines - but he doubted that the panties came from there. So clearly Bastet had started a feud with another random stranger in the building.

Yes, he would have to do his best Sherlock Holmes impression to solve this case. Shame that there was no Lucy Liu nearby to whip him into crime-solving shape.

“Aha,” he finally liberated the panties from Bastet’s playful paws. “Got you!”

Going door to door with these was definitely out - he did not want to give old Mrs. Sterling another heart attack, because her grandson would actually kill him, slowly and painfully. There were very few women on his floor though, that he knew of.

“Where are you, you evil hell beast?” someone stomped inelegantly down the hallway.

Ah yes, clearly the owner of the pink princess panties had been located, and she was not amused by their absence. What, did the princess have a hot date tonight? Was it laundry day?

Bellamy slowly opened his door. He had to see who the princess was. After all, he did have some property of hers to return.

“Missing something?” he dangled the pink panties from his left index finger.

The angry blonde snatched them from his finger quickly, blush high on her cheeks. Her blue eyes shone with fury, and she barely had the panties hidden in her sweater pocket when she went off on him.

“Did you know that your cat is a serious klepto?” she had her finger pointed at Bastet, who was now chilling lazily in the doorjamb. “I was housesitting for my step-whatever and she just stole my panties while I was in the shower. And now they’re probably ruined.”

From what he saw, they just needed a good wash and they were going to be good as new, but even though he’d seen a lot of ladies’ underwear - that was the reason why his sister occasionally referred to him as a manwhore - he was still hardly an expert. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to wear that scrap of lace after his cat had gotten her claws into it.

“You’re Abby’s kid,” he made the connection, even though the two women hardly looked alike. “Look, Bastet’s used to roaming free, and she doesn’t like strangers. Sorry about your panties, princess.”

Of course his patronizing comment made it worse - she just looked like the kind of girl who was even hotter when she was riled up. Well, he was right about that, but the princess was certainly not amused. She scowled at him with even more passion now.

“You should be,” she crossed her arms. “If these aren’t salvageable, you’re going to be paying for a new pair.”

He’d pay for five pairs if that meant that Abby and Kane wouldn’t kill him. Mostly Abby - she was way scarier than Marcus Kane had ever been, even though the guy worked for a high-level politician. Abby Griffin had access to all the tools that could be used to chop him into a million little pieces - and she’d use them too if he ever did anything to her daughter.

“I will,” he held up his hands in a well known gesture of peace. “No problem. Even though it’s not my fault that my cat really likes your undies. I’m Bellamy, by the way.”

The princess looked less than interested in his name. Heck, she probably just wanted to get his money, so that she could leave with her pink prize and buy herself some new sexy underwear. He did not exactly blame her for that.

“Such a charmer,” she rolled her eyes at him. “Are you done sticking your foot in your mouth?”

“Probably not,” he muttered under his breath.

With another eye roll, she turned on her heel and left, her long blonde locks leaving small drips of water all over the hallway. Bastet seemed ready to follow her, so he had to pick her up, small nails digging into his skin as he closed the door behind them.

“Sorry, precious,” he pet her gently. “She was not a fan of your delinquent habits.”

Bastet purred happily in his arms, proud to have caused her human some more grief. Ah yes, he knew the second he saw her at the animal shelter that she would be perfect for him. An Egyptian cat for a History major with an interest in the pharaohs that probably was not entirely healthy. And she had an attitude befitting an Egyptian goddess.

“Are you going to let me cook?” he asked Bastet, who just clung to him even tighter. “Guess not. Take out it is.”

As he looked at his take out drawer - yes, he had a drawer for that - he mused over what he could do to apologize to Princess Griffin. A peace offering was probably necessary, he realized as he sent another pained look at his cat.

“Take out for two,” Bellamy called in his order and got extra everything. He really hoped that this girl liked dumplings and fortune cookies. And everything else he ordered - he could never choose and so he always got enough dishes to feed him for a few days.

So he tipped the delivery guy generously and headed to Kane’s apartment, hoping that the princess was still there. He left Bastet at home for the occasion, to her great disappointment, and knocked on the door with trepidation.

“Who is it?” the princess did not open the door for just anyone.

“The owner of klepto cat,” he called out. “I come bearing food.”

That made her open the door. The princess was dressed just as casually this time, with her long hair up in a bun and the same big sweater she used to hide her panties in. She was also wearing bright pink fuzzy socks on her feet. He smiled before he could help himself.

“What is this?” she still did not trust him.

“A little bit of everything,” he shrugged, offering the takeout boxes to her. “Also, a peace offering.”

The smell of the food was clearly what persuaded her - surely it was not his charm, because he didn’t really possess any. But he was carrying several bags of delicious-smelling takeout, and not even the princess could deny herself that.

“Fine, come in,” she sighed, obviously just trying to be polite.

He had been inside Kane’s place before, but last time there weren’t clothes and anatomy books littering the apartment. There was a pink bra - obviously matching the panties - hung over the couch, and one of the books was open on the bones of the hand. Clearly the princess had been making herself at home here.

“Don’t say a word,” she told him when she noticed what he was looking at.

“Wasn’t gonna,” he threw himself into Kane’s best chair.

Leaning forward, he unpacked most of the food and displayed it on Kane’s table. He liked seeing his options before he chose what to eat first. And second, and third. And maybe even fourth, if he was really hungry - and he usually was.

The princess - how did he still not know her name? - was digging through the fridge, hopefully to get them both some drinks with their take-out. She seemed much more at ease now that she was kind of in her own space.

“Want a beer?” she was still half-leaning into the fridge. “Kane buys good craft beers and he gives me free reign when I’m here. That’s why I keep him around.”

She handed him a bottle of the good stuff - no glass necessary - and appeared to take a mental inventory of every dish that was on display. It was almost methodical, and that made him even more curious about the new girl.

“What do you do when you’re not on Kane’s couch?” he had to ask.

“Mostly I study,” she shrugged. “I’m a med student, so I’m either at the hospital or reading more stuff that I can use at the hospital. Sometimes I get to use Kane’s place to study for finals or whatever, when he’s out of town for work.”

For once he was glad that Kane was out of town so much. Hell, he was going to tell the other man to go away even more, if that meant that the princess would be right across the hall.

“Well then,” he grabbed a few dumplings. “Welcome, neighbor.”

“You know, you could just ask me my name,” the princess was already stuffing her face.

Even with her mouth full of chicken, she was still ridiculously gorgeous. And she was intelligent - which meant he was going to ruin all possibility of further interaction in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...

“What’s your name?” he dutifully recited.

“It’s Clarke,” she responded, tossing a napkin at him. “You’re kind of an asshole, Bellamy.”

He just shrugged in response to that, eating some more beef. It wasn’t exactly new information to him. He’d been called names like that often, mostly by his own sister. But at least Octavia said it with a kind of fondness. Clarke said it in the kind of tone that suggested that the discovery was a delightful surprise.

“And what is it that you do?” Clarke continued. “That is, when you’re not returning stolen underwear?”

“Bachelor’s in History, finishing my Master’s in anthropology,” he said in between bites.

Mostly he just researched in preparation of one day getting to sift through dirt in hopes of finding something relevant or valuable. He was going to go on digs, see strange areas of the world and meet people from all kinds of cultures. And he was probably going to be an asshole to every single one of them.

“No wonder your cat is named after the Egyptian goddess of protection and love,” Clarke picked up on the reference quickly.

“Impressive,” he let his appreciation color his voice.

That was ridiculously hot. He was actually a little bit turned on right now - okay, maybe more than a little bit. The fact that she actually knew where his cat’s name came from was really sexy. Knowledge tended to turn him on.

“I like art,” Clarke was trying really hard to sound casual, but the shades of red on her cheeks gave her away. “My friend Raven showed me the Egyptian gods and goddesses and I was just so interested. I tried to draw a couple of them, but they didn’t come out right.”

She was rushing through the words, trying to stop herself from talking by forcing food into her mouth - but it never made it to her mouth. Most of the food just dropped back into the container. Clarke Griffin was awkward and adorable, and he found himself liking her more by the minute.

“I’m a stick figure man myself,” he shrugged.

Clarke laughed at that, and he couldn’t help but smile in return. God, when had he turned into such a cheeseball? He took another sip of his beer to hide his emotions and looked for his second dish among the chaos on the table.

“We should do this again some time,” Bellamy blurted out.

“Like on a date?” Clarke was of a more suspicious sort. “A proper date?”

Well, that sounded a lot like a no. He was really hoping that she was interested.

“A second date,” he tried to clarify.

“I have homework,” Clarke started rambling again. “And I have a ton of classes and I have to prepare for my internship. I have to start really soon.”

So, was he reading her signals right? She looked at him through her long eyelashes and he wondered if maybe she was just unsure of herself. He was not too great at the reassurance thing - Octavia would agree with that - but he was not giving up.

“How about Friday night?” he just went for it.

“Yeah, okay, sure,” she stammered.

Clarke still seemed a little unsettled, a little nervous about this date. And he was not going to go there. He was not going there. He was not going to say the thing.

“It’s only a date,” he returned. “No need to get your panties in a twist.”

He said the thing.

The pillow that hit him in the face was totally earned. 


End file.
